BLURB:
Mesa Kingston's first
memory of burying a corpse was at eight years old. Back then it had been the
carcass of a large lizard her dad found that they buried in the backyard of
their isolated cottage. At age fourteen, the body of a young lady accompanied
the reptile's remains, and ever since, an accumulation of female bodies began
to grow. Now, the only way Mesa can stop the haunting screams of the dead is by
drowning them out with flames. Or is there more to the blaze than even she can
perceive?
EXCERPT:
Good girls do anything for their fathers, including
rob, cheat, and kill, and I always considered myself a good girl. The time I
first came to that conclusion will stay with me forever. Years later, here I
am, still fulfilling my daughterly duty.
After wiping the sweat from my palm onto my jeans,
I press the bulbous tip of the match against the strike strip on the side of
the small carton. My hands shake worse than Grandma's had when trying to slice
her ninety-first birthday cake just a few hours ago, but I manage to run the
match across it anyway. The flame comes alive at my fingertips, dancing merrily
at the prospect of latching on to something and disintegrating it into
smoldering embers. Although the light breeze causes the flame to flicker at the
end of the matchstick, I'm aware of the control I have over it. I watch the
glow change shape through a veil of tears and with that the decision was
absolute.
The flame will get to perform its destructive duty.
I flick the match toward the pile of wooden planks
that used to be the porch. Instantly the fire catches the fumes of the pooled
liquid and expands so quickly a wall of gasoline-scented hot air rushes me
before the blaze travels deeper into the house. I back away to a safe distance
as the straw-like grass crunches beneath my feet. Nearing the homemade fence,
which is nothing more than a double row of chicken wire, I hear the screams
from the distance, cries of agony that meld with my memory like two spreading
pools of melted wax. I can't stop the waterworks. I don't even make an attempt.
The
L.L. stands for Leslie Lee. I write erotic romance and
post-apocalyptic/dystopian fiction under Leslie Lee Sanders.
But
horror and thriller fiction is what I grew up on, what inspires me, and what
began my pursuit to authorship. I’ve written many short scary stories since the
6th grade. Now they’re much more mature in general, thanks to the wide range of
emotion and experience I’ve encountered over the years.
I’m
a huge fan of horror and psychological thrillers in every fashion, including
movies, books, art, campfire tales, etc. Some of my favorite stories are those
that twist at the end or are ambiguous with deep societal or morality themes.
This includes dystopias like Hugh Howey’s Wool, psychological thrillers like
Shutter Island, and popular and classic horror/romances like V.C. Andrews’s
Flowers in the Attic, my favorite.
All
my ideas start with a twist, which is exactly how most of my stories end.
FACEBOOK:
https://www.facebook.com/lls4sanders
TWITTER:
https://twitter.com/LeslieLSanders
WEBSITE:
http://llsanders.com/
AMAZON
BUY LINK: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TNTLTZY
Thanks for hosting me today! I'll be checking in all day to answer any questions and respond to comments. Thanks for your interest in Passing the Torch!
ReplyDeleteReaders, let's discuss ... Do you enjoy surprises and twist endings in your thriller reads?